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I Was Transported To An Adult Game On My Deathbed

What would you do if, on your deathbed, you were offered one last game? Would you choose a grand adventure? A tale of romance? A world to rule? Kayle made his choice—an adult game. A game he never got to experience in his first life. But instead of indulgence, he wakes up at rock bottom—a lowly servant boy in a crumbling brothel, trapped in a city on the brink of ruin. His goal remains the same: to enjoy the story he never got to play. Unfortunately, his very existence is already rewriting it. One day while walking through the streets of the capital city's slums, everyone suddenly bowed down to me. "Greetings! Godfather!" **** Disclaimer 1. "Is this a harem?" A common question from my previous novel, so I'll address it upfront. No, it is not. At least, not in the traditional sense. He'll have relationships with many girls, but most of them will be a fling. There will only be one final heroine. 3. If you decide to give my novel a try, first, thank you! Second, I would love if you could leave a few comments or a review. The feedback and confirmation that people are reading my book helps to keep me writing. 4. There is no smut in my book. I repeat, there is NO SMUT in my book. I know the title can be misleading, but I assure you, there is no smut in my book. (Important things should be repeated three times.) 5. I'm currently working on fixing my update schedule, but it should be sorted by March and will most likely be 3-4 chapters a week.
Lagaru · 9.7K Views

For Me, For Us, For Everyone

Cigarette smoke curls in the stagnant air, the dim glow of a dying bulb casting twisted shadows against the walls littered with half-torn articles and red-thread connections. Somewhere between the ink-stained papers and the scattered pills, a man sits—silent, unmoving, staring blankly at a stuffed monkey in a clown suit. A detective, they call him. A man of justice, a solver of mysteries. But behind the applause and empty praises, behind the sharp smiles and hollow congratulations, he is nothing but a walking contradiction—one hand holding a case file, the other exchanging cash for little plastic sachets. His mind is a labyrinth of voices, whispers that coil around his thoughts like suffocating vines. His brother grins at him from the corners of his vision, eyes glinting with the truth he refuses to face. His father’s voice is gentle, forgiving—too forgiving. Too much for a man who doesn’t deserve it. Each pill swallowed is another step into the illusion, another moment of stolen happiness before the weight of reality drags him under. He walks the city streets, drowning in faces that admire him, loathe him, see him as something he is not. He is both a hero and a villain, a detective and a criminal, a man trying to outrun the past while shackled to its corpse. And at the end of the night, when the echoes of the world fall away, all that remains is the darkness, the whispers, and the suffocating truth—he can never escape them.
Zeisn · 0 Views
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